


Reflected

by ErikaWilliams



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Body Swap, Crowley Has Feelings, Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), First Time Doing That, Hardcore Cuddling, Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Sensuality, Sharing a Body, Supernatural Biology, hand holding, nervous Aziraphale, that night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 03:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErikaWilliams/pseuds/ErikaWilliams
Summary: Crowley stared directly at him, just stared at him with those beautiful golden eyes.  There had been light touches before, the shake of a hand, the barest brush of fingers, the more deliberate holding of hands on the way back from Tadfield.  None of those held nearly the same weight as to what he asked of Crowley now.  Crowley nodded, just once,  but it was enough.  He reached over to tentatively trace the tattoo on the side of Crowley’s face.





	Reflected

Hands folded carefully over his stomach, Aziraphale stared at the ceiling of Crowley’s bedroom. Even though he technically didn’t need to breath, and good thing too, he couldn’t get his breath to steady. There was quite a lot to take in, and he just needed a moment to process it all. There had been that whole nasty business with the almost apocalypse, and then losing the bookshop, and the whole discorporated bit. All of it had culminated with him at Crowley’s flat, lying in his bed and staring up at the ceiling, wondering why he felt so trapped when the ceiling was so high.

“Comfortable?” Crowley asked from where he was lounging on his side beside him. Crowley still his sunglasses on, but had somehow taken a moment to change into some black silk pajamas. Aziraphale was very pointedly not looking at him, but still minutely aware of Crowley watching him.

“I’m getting there,” he admitted before swallowing hard. If someone had told him on Tuesday that at the end of the week he was going to end the night in Crowley’s bed, he never would have believed it. Nothing about this was what he had expected. Not that he had ever given much though to ways he might wind up here, but this was nothing like he would have possibly imagined. He was sure of it.

“I can change something, if you’d like,” Crowley offered softly from beside him and he heard a faint rustling of the sheets as Crowley shifted on the bed. He was starting to feel a bit stuffy in there even though the stone walls should have kept it cool.

“No,” he said before licking his lips. “Please don’t change anything.” He didn’t want Crowley to change a single thing, not now. When he had first toed his way into Crowley’s flat, the stark vastness of the place reminded him far too much of Heaven. Then Crowley had shown him the plants, and they were so beautiful and he had told them as much while Crowley had stalked carefully around him, alternating between staring at him and glaring at the plants almost as if they were capable of misbehaving.

“You sure?” Crowley asked him, his weight shifting subtly again. “I can change the sheets to cotton or something. Whatever you need.”

“Do you think it will be painful?” he asked because they had avoided this conversation for long enough. It wasn’t like they had all the time in the world to figure this out. If they were even on the right track. All of this could still be for nothing.

“I’m sure with proper preparation it’ll be fine,” Crowley said off-handedly, but he didn’t sound too convinced himself.

“How much do you think is enough?” It’s not like he went around doing this every day. What if they got it wrong? He couldn’t bear to hurt Crowley any more than he already had.

“Communication?” Crowley gave a small roll of his shoulders. “Just let each other know when we feel ready?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be best.” He moved his hands to his side and pinched the sheets between his thumb and forefinger. Crowley would have the softest, most luxurious sheets that he could find. Crowley liked only the best things. Which he supposed rather made it a miracle that Crowley still liked him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I think it’s the only chance we have.” He finally looked at Crowley. Crowley owned a big bed, but he settled about a foot away from him, close enough that he could hear every shift of his body but so infuriatingly far enough away that there was no chance of any accidental touches. “Besides, aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“Don’t see what you have to be curious about. You’re the one who’s done it before.”

If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Crowley sounded hurt. He wished Crowley would have taken those sunglasses off before crawling into bed with him; Crowley seemed to be trying extra hard to close himself off at the moment.

“That hardly counts. It was one time, and it was a necessity.”

“Still,” Crowley said before rolling onto his back, “I don’t see what you have to be curious about. You’ve already done it, _and_ with a mortal.”

“It’s going to be completely different with you,” he said, following after Crowley by rolling to his side. He felt the urge to reach over and touch him, stronger than ever before, but he had to push those thoughts aside. Crowley wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

“Still, just another necessity though, right?” Crowley asked him bitterly. “Just one more thing you have to endure in order to survive?”

“Crowley...” His fingers twitched towards the space between them, but he let them fall empty to the bed. “I’m trying to keep you safe.” Crowley remained very still beside him, far too still, like he was retreating somewhere safe inside himself. Somewhere he couldn’t reach in their current state of being. “If it helps, you’re the only one I’ve ever _wanted _to do this with.”

“I’ve never even thought about doing this,” Crowley grumbled.

“Are you that repulsed by the idea?” Aziraphale didn’t want to force Crowley to do something that he was uncomfortable with, but it still stung that after all this time Crowley fully trust him. He supposed it was what he deserved, after all the times he had pushed Crowley away. But right now, they needed to reach out to one another if they were going to survive.

“No, it’s just different.” Not something angels or demons would be doing every day, let alone with each other.

Aziraphale reached over to entwine his fingers gently with Crowley’s. This was territory they had already tentatively explored on the bus ride home from Tadfield. “We’ll figure it out together, dear.” Crowley gave his hand an answering squeeze before rolling over to face him again. “Can I take your glasses off? I think this will work better the more I can see of you.”

Crowley’s shoulders tensed then relaxed. “That makes sense,” Crowley said with just a slight catch in his voice.

“It _should_ be different,” he reassured Crowley as he reverently reached up and slipped the glasses off his face. Crowley did have such lovely, unique eyes. “We’re on our own side, remember?” He set the glasses high up on the pillow, out of the way but still close enough that Crowley could grab them and put them back on if needed. He looked so open and vulnerable, and Aziraphale hated that he had a hand in that. “Can I touch you?”

Crowley stared directly at him, just stared at him with those beautiful golden eyes. There had been light touches before, the shake of a hand, the barest brush of fingers, the more deliberate holding of hands on the way back from Tadfield. None of those held nearly the same weight as to what he asked of Crowley now. Crowley nodded, just once, but it was enough. He reached over to tentatively trace the tattoo on the side of Crowley’s face.

“Ngh,” Crowley said, twitching his head away from Azirapahle’s questing fingers. “Maybe not there,” he said with a visible shudder. “’M a bit sensitive there.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologized before changing his trajectory to card his fingers through Crowley’s hair instead. He had wanted to do that for a long time, ever since Eden when he had first seen those gorgeous locks on top of the wall. For centuries, he had imagined how soft it would be, how it would feel to run his fingers through it. Crowley’s hair was much shorter now, but it was just as soft as he imagined. Crowley loosed a little whimper and leaned into the touch.

Obviously, Aziraphale was doing that right if nothing else. He kept that hand tenderly in Crowley’s hair while he tentatively reached out with his other hand to trace the back of Crowley’s left ear. His fingers continued their trail down the line of Crowley’s jaw, feeling the rough brush of his stubble against his fingertips.

“Feels okay so far,” Crowley said, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Aziraphale’s.

“We’ve hardly gotten started.” Aziraphale could have stayed there forever, stroking Crowley’s jaw and listening to his soft little whimpers. They didn’t have forever though, they might not even have a tomorrow, and he didn’t know how safe it would be, performing such a miracle so close to Crowley’s head. He trailed his hand lower, fingers barely skimming the hollow of Crowley’s throat. Crowley made a small noise and leaned into the hand that was still tangled in his hair. He was simply touching him for now, just the physical sensations of his fingers brushing against Crowley’s bare skin. His knuckles brushed the silk of Crowley’s pajamas as his hand skimmed lower, down to his chest where he first started to probe his essence into Crowley’s body.

“Ungh.” Crowley shuddered and Aziraphale withdrew his hand and his angelic presence. He immediately missed the contact, but he kept his other hand safely tangled in Crowley’s hair. “That does tingle.”

“Was that too much?” He needed to be more careful. They needed to time this exchange just right or he might actually cause Crowley to explode. It would be horrid after everything they had gone through; it would simply put Crowley in Hell’s hands that much faster.

“Maybe you could ease up a little bit. Not so much at once.”

“Right.” He needed to maintain better control, keep himself grounded on something physical instead of the sensations of brushing into Crowley. He focused on the soft strands of Crowley’s hair, silken between his fingers as he took his other hand and danced his fingers down Crowley’s arm. The space between his skin and Crowley’s was electrified. He stroked back up Crowley’s arm and twisted his fingers tighter into Crowley’s hair. He could feel the presence that was Crowley inhabiting that body responding to his questing touch, arching up to meet him like a plant searching for the light of the sun.

“That’s enough,” Crowley said, pulling his arm away from him. He might have been getting a tad bit carried away, but edging his way slowly into Crowley was almost intoxicating. “Its your turn now.”

Aziraphale removed his hand from Crowley’s hair and brought both his hands very close to his body. “Yes, of course.” They both needed to be equally prepared if they were going to do this right

“Angel, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

Right. They needed skin to skin contact if this was going to work, and Crowley wasn’t going to get that if he was fully dressed. He closed his eyes momentarily to miracle away his clothes.

“I only meant the jacket and the waistcoat,” Crowley demurred from beside him.

“I’m a bit nervous,” he admitted, looking back up towards the ceiling. Now that Crowley was studying him so intently, he was starting to rethink his whole strategy. Maybe he had misunderstood Agnes’ final prophecy. “Should I put something back on?”

“No, it’s fine,” Crowley said before inching closer to him. “Any advice for the first timer?”

“It helps to ground yourself with something physical” he said, rolling back towards Crowley. He had to resist the urge to run his fingers back through Crowley’s hair. His breath was quickening just from the memory. “Keeps one from getting carried away and just diving in all at once.”

“Something physical?” Crowley asked, looking thoughtful. There were time he would have given anything to know what Crowley was thinking.

“Yes,” he breathed out before licking his lips.

“Something like this?” Crowley moved lightning fast, like a snake closing the distance on his prey. Aziraphale whimpered a bit as Crowley’s lips moved against his. He hadn’t been expecting Crowley’s kiss to be so demanding, hadn’t really expected Crowley to kiss him at all. He opened his mouth to him, allowing Crowley to take what he needed. Crowley’s hand pawed at his bare shoulder, and he could feel Crowley’s demonic essence exploring the expanse of his skin, just as surely as Crowley’s tongue was exploring the depths of his mouth.

Crowley’s hand slid down his bare arm, leaving behind a fiery trail in its wake that left him a shuddering mess. He was quite sure he would be gasping if all sounds he made weren’t currently being swallowed up by Crowley. Crowley’s free hand, the one that currently wasn’t testing the waters by sending little sparks into his arm, came up to gently cup the back of his neck, effectively holding him in place. Aziraphale’s own spiritual essence rose up to meet Crowley’s exploratory touches. Crowley moved his hand to Aziraphale’s waist and drew him in closer. Aziraphale broke away from Crowley’s mouth with a small groan.

“Crowley, that’s enough,” he said, pushing gently on Crowley’s chest to move him away.

“Was that too forward?” Crowley asked. He had pulled back inside his own body, but had kept both of his hands on Aziraphale. Almost like he was afraid Aziraphale would slip away from him if he let go for even a moment. Aziraphale had no intention of leaving again any time soon.

“No,” he said, reaching up to trace his fingers along Crowley’s jaw. He supposed that had been a long time coming. Crowley nuzzled into his hand. “I suppose we should get on with it.” He took hold of Crowley’s hand on his waist, threading their fingers together.

“So... how do we do this?” Crowley asked, shifting sinuously on the bed. “Don’t want to accidentally make ourselves explode or anything.”

“Hands are probably best.” He gave Crowley’s hand a gentle squeeze and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “Are you ready?”

Crowley nodded and leaned forward to lightly brush noses with him together before settling their foreheads together.

Aziraphale wasn’t sure which one of them initiated it. All he knew was one moment he was staring deeply into Crowley’s eyes, and in the next they were touching in the truest sense of the word. From where their palms were joined, Crowley’s essence was slipping into his body. At the same time, he was trying to send his own essence gently past Crowley into Crowley’s body. It was a narrow space they were traveling, but he wanted to give Crowley a wide berth. Crowley had other ideas though. Crowley was dark and lithe, and he slid past Aziraphale like it was nothing in the world. Sliding past him, circling around him, undulating in soft waves. Growing tighter around him until all he could feel was Crowley surrounding him, engulfing him. Nothing but Crowley reaching the very core of his being.

“Crowley,” he gasped before he was lost forever.

“Sorry,” Crowley mumbled, and the grip loosened. Crowley stayed wrapped around him though, sinuously moving further into him while he very cautiously crept further into Crowley.

For a moment there, while Crowley pulsated around him, and he started to get comfortable with the notion of leaving his body behind and taking up residence in Crowley’s it was like they were one being. He could still faintly feel the sensations of his own body but he was becoming minutely aware of Crowley’s body as well. And, wrapped up so tightly in the being that was Crowley, he could feel everything. Six thousand years of adoration. The anguish when he thought he had lost him. The trepidation at what they were doing now and the fear that it wasn’t going to be enough, that they were still going to die. He closed his eyes.

“It’s alright, Crowley,” he tried to say, but it was Crowley’s voice who spoke. He whimpered (or maybe it was Crowley who whimpered) as Crowley’s coils tightened around him. He was almost fully inside Crowley, only a little bit was left, but it was that part that the last bit of Crowley was clinging to. He was just no longer sure if it was him or his body that Crowley didn’t want to part from. He backed up just a little bit, nuzzling up against Crowley. Eventually Crowley relaxed his grip and finished the journey into his body.

The loss of Crowley hit him like a splash of cold water to the face. It felt like he couldn’t breath, but he was simultaneously getting too much air at once. Part of him wanted to go chasing after him, to get back into his old body or just to feel Crowley brush up against him again. He shut that part of him down.

“Open your eyes love,” he heard his own voice telling him quietly. He cracked them open slowly and stretched, marveling at the fluidity of this body. ‘Crowley’ had put a beautifully embroidered dressing gown on him and was sitting up in bed, watching him.

“I suppose it worked,” he said, feeling a shudder roll down his spine.

“Seems like it,” ‘Crowley’ said reaching over to card his fingers through his hair. Oh, well that really did feel quite marvelous. “So I’ll see you at the park later, dear?”

“What should I do?” he asked, wiggling into the sheets. He was starting to understand why Crowley liked these things so much.

“Make yourself at home.”


End file.
